BOO!

I have a boatload of cupcakes sitting on my kitchen counter, waiting for a rowboat full of 2nd graders tonight. Here’s hoping Thor’s classmates are hungry.

I love Halloween. I love the costumes, and the candy, and the excuse to hang paper lanterns. I do not love horror or gore, or being afraid, but it’s easy enough to spot which houses to avoid.

Why do I dislike horror so much? Too much of it in real life to add to the awfulness in fantasy. Also, I can’t help but wonder about the people left behind in horror movies. All those imaginary kids at Camp Crystal Lake had imaginary parents, who would have been in imaginary mourning for the rest of their imaginary lives. I’m not able to cut the bigger picture out of focus, and I am just mortified for the family and friends of all these fake victims. I can’t find a thrill in the scare (and have never been able to) because I can’t get around oh-my-god-what-if-that-happened-to-someone-I-love?! It just makes me sick and sad.

This is also why I am so bad at video games*.

I had this one game that was actually fun, but I kept getting my guy killed before I could level up, and I felt so bad about how horribly he kept dying that I had to quit playing. I am neurotically empathetic toward imaginary people. Probably comes of having had so many imaginary friends as a child.

Be safe out there, people. Be safe, and be good to each other.

*I did kill a lot of Sims on purpose, trying to get a Sims ghost. I can tell you that I do actually and honestly feel bad about having killed those Sims.